


I've lost my best friend

by GreenGlitchBitch



Series: Good Omens [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with an angst ending, Character Death, Crowley cries, Depressing, Hastur and Ligur got there first, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Nothing but angst, Read at Your Own Risk, Scene: The Bookshop Fire (Good Omens), There is Nothing Happy About This Fic, this time I actually am sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenGlitchBitch/pseuds/GreenGlitchBitch
Summary: “Your call could not be connected at this time. Please hang up, and try again later” Crowley’s phone told him, for the fifth time since he had left his flat. He needed to get to the bookshop, he needed to get to Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621834
Comments: 8
Kudos: 24





	I've lost my best friend

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry, I am sorry, I am actually sorry for once. This idea came to me, because I was listening to the Doctor Who soundtrack, and the Madame de Pompadour song started playing and it's one of my favorite songs in the entire soundtrack ever, just because it's so sad, yet hopeful at the same time. (That entire episode breaks my heart, just because we finally see how lonely the Doctor is, even with companions) Anyway, this was birthed from that, because the song just makes me think of the bookshop burning scene so much, and it wouldn't leave me alone. I wrote this while listening to the song on repeat, so if you want, you should listen to the song, to understand where I was coming from, and the tone of the fic. I've never written a fic to a piece of music specifically before. I've listened to music while I write, but never like this. So it might make the fic make more sense, might make it more devastating, might not do anything, I don't know. Anyway, I hope this fic was good, and I'm sorry one last time.
> 
> [Doctor Who soundtrack Madame De Pompadour song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0uUrZOo8pQ&t=3s)

“Your call could not be connected at this time. Please hang up, and try again later” Crowley’s phone told him, for the fifth time since he had left his flat. He needed to get to the bookshop, he needed to get to Aziraphale. Hastur and Ligur had come for him, and they had known about Aziraphale. The angel wasn’t safe anymore, and this close to the end of the world, they couldn’t afford to lose one another.

“Come on, come on!” Crowley growled at the Bentley, urging her to go faster. He could feel something was wrong. He always had a sense tuned to Aziraphale, to keep the angel safe at all times. If anything terrible happened to him, Cowley would feel it, but right now, he couldn’t feel anything at all, like the link had been severed. He turned the corner to the bookshop, and was met with a chilling sight. It was on fire, and Crowley could feel, this was not regular fire, this was Hellfire. Hastur and Ligur must have come to the shop before going to his flat. He stopped the Bentley in the middle of the road, opened the car door, and rushed through the rain, not even bothering to turn her off.

“Sir, you can’t go in-” began a fireman, who rushed to stop Crowley, but the demon was already opening the doors, using his hands. He was desperate to get inside.

“Aziraphale!” he shouted, as the door closed behind him. He was surrounded in Hellfire. It didn’t burn him, just left him feeling comfortably warm, and he felt sick to his stomach. He began searching all around for the angel.

“Aziraphale, please tell me you're in here!” he tried again, knowing it might not work. He couldn’t feel Aziraphale’s presence anywhere, and he was growing more and more desperate by the second.

“I can’t find you! Please tell me you’re okay!” he shouted making his way to the back room, still in search for the angel. He hoped in vain that if Aziraphale was still alive, he would be alright. Then he caught sight of something that made his heart break.

“No” he whispered softly, feeling tears well up in his eyes without his permission, as he reached up and took off his sunglasses. It was Aziraphale. He was lying on the floor in the back room, silent and still. Crowley couldn’t feel a presence in the angels corporation, couldn’t feel any remnant of Aziraphale that would let him know if the angel had simply been discorporated or not. He slowly walked over to the body, and fell to his knees.

“Yo-you can’t be gone” he said weakly, gathering the angel up in his arms, and was startled to find the body was cold, despite the fire it had been lying in. He felt his heart break a little more, as tears began to fall from his eyes.

“I-I never got the chan-” he started, before he was interrupted by a sob that tore it’s way through his body, and he rested his head against Aziraphale’s chest, as he rocked them back and forth.

“You can’t be gone. Please come back to me. I love you. You can’t be gone. Please come back to me. I love you” he whispered to himself, over and over, like a mantra, as if those words would bring Aziraphale back. He lifted his head from Aziraphale’s chest, and gently placed one of his hands on the back of the angel's head, holding him close, not even trying to quell the flow of tears. 

“What do I do n-now? I-I ca-can’t go on by m-myself” the demon sobbed, still rocking himself and Aziraphale back and forth. He was out of options. There was no point in saving the world if Aziraphale wasn’t going to be around. The angel had been the only thing he’d fought for, and now he was dead. The demon felt himself get filled with a rage unlike anything he had ever felt before. It boiled in his stomach and tore at his entire being.

“This is your fault, isn’t it?!” he yelled, looking up to the blazing ceiling of the shop, to the sky, and to Her.

“All of it! Everything was your fault! How much do you hate me?!” he asked, his tears changing from ones of grief, to ones of anger.

“I asked questions, I wanted to know! But that was too much for you, so you abandoned me! You kicked me out of Heaven for wanting to know! You tore everything that was good inside out, and left only the parts of me I hate” he continued, feeling his canine teeth sharpen and point into those of a snake. He felt scales begin to show themselves on his neck, arms and back, and knew that the whites of his eyes had been enveloped in the yellow of his snake ones.

“But then I found him, and I had something to live for again. But you couldn’t stand to see me happy! Demons aren’t supposed to be happy, or have friends! Demons aren’t supposed to LOVE!!” he shouted, his voice breaking, as he felt more tears fall from his eyes.

“So you took him away from me, and left me here on my own, once again” he said, his voice weakening, as he looked back down at the body of the angel he loved, and his grief overwhelmed him once more. He held the angel close, and sobbed. He sobbed and wept, feeling the building weaken around him. He did not move from that spot, even as the roof collapsed, and fell around him, as he used a miracle to keep himself and his angel safe from the burning debris. The cool drops of rain did not shake him, nor did any firemen, some of whom were brave enough to try to pull him away from Aziraphale. He hissed and snarled at them, glaring with his sulfur yellow eyes, not bothering to miracle up another pair. Only when the fire was finally put out, did Crowley pull away from the body of his beloved angel, and gently kiss his forehead, tears still flowing down his cheeks.

Then he wordlessly stood up, and began walking in the direction of the nearest church, leaving the Bentley, the charred remains of the bookshop, and the body of the angel he had loved for 6000 years behind. Looking at his watch, there was only 15 minutes before the end of the world, and he was a 10 minute walk from the nearest church. He would make it just in time. With any luck, he would even miss the first few bombs going off.


End file.
